


Yours, Always

by Gimmemore



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, M/M, Memory Loss, Mind Meld, Old Married Spirk Challenge, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Post-Star Trek: The Voyage Home, Recovered Memories, Rimming, Sex Toys, T'hy'la, T'hy'la bond, Temporary Amnesia, Vulcan Bonds, Vulcan Mind Melds, brief discussion/mention of, old married spirk, post fal-tor-pan, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12900381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gimmemore/pseuds/Gimmemore
Summary: Jim’s been away from home for a few weeks, and although he and Spock are re-bonded and living together, things are still far from being back to 'normal.’  Upon his return home, he finds something he never expected, that changes things forever between them.





	Yours, Always

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plaidshirtjimkirk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plaidshirtjimkirk/gifts).



> Takes place between ST:TVH and ST:TFF. Heed the tags. Lots of smut/fluff (and maybe teeny tiny bit of reflective angst). This is gifted to Plaid as thanks for holding the wonderful OMS challenge every year and for the idea which has been talking to me for over a year.
> 
> Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Jim was exhausted.  He’d been shuffled about for the last three weeks to conference after conference on the implementation of new Federation regulations regarding first contacts, subsequent contact, treaties, and negotiations.  Having had his fair share of contact with new civilizations and coming out _mostly_ unscathed, he was occasionally called on to consult and give his opinion.  His reputation always preceded him though and whether others agreed with what they termed his ‘cowboy diplomacy’ or not, they couldn’t deny the results.  After all, it wasn’t too long ago that he and his crew had saved the people of Earth from their own short-sightedness.

Adding insult to injury, the shuttle had docked an hour late and when he was finally beamed to Starfleet headquarters, it had begun pouring rain.  Normally, he would walk home.  The twenty-minute walk was one he and Spock enjoyed often, and it gave them quiet moments to enjoy and simply exist in each other’s company, watching the world around them.  It was also an excellent way for Jim to decompress from the pressures of the day and though he had learned to meditate over the years with Spock’s help, there was nothing like a long walk to ease the mind and body, especially when he had his bondmate by his side.  But Jim was eager to get home and not be soaked to the bone when he got there.  So, he had called a hovercab.  He pulled out his PADD and messaged Spock his ETA just as transportation arrived.

Jim tossed his bags in the seat beside him and climbed inside.  With a small lurch, the hovercab took off.  Leaning his head back, Jim closed his eyes and began breathing deeply and evenly.  In deference to Spock’s current needs, Jim planned to use the ten-minute drive home to calm his mind and body.  His vibrant humanity still tended to overwhelm Spock, especially after an extended absence.  It was part of the many changes that had come with Spock’s death and resurrection, and Jim was adjusting to them, accommodating them, as best he could.

That wasn’t to say the last ten months hadn’t been trying, they had, to say the least, but he couldn’t regret it.  Any of it.  Spock was alive and well and where he should always be: by Jim’s side.  And some things had been simple.  In fact, Spock’s rehabilitation - the retraining of his mind in academia, telepathic control, and Vulcan culture, arts and mysticism - had been relatively easy. 

The hardest part continued to be the reintegration of the twenty-plus years of humanity he had learned and absorbed, particularly since V’ger.  His meld with V’ger had been the catalyst to so much; most importantly, the moment when Spock stopped fighting his two disparate sides and achieved a peace within himself that Jim had been very thankful for.  But those memories remained buried deep, and with each passing day, Jim feared they might become permanently lost.

It had taken six months, but enough of Spock’s memories had resurfaced, enough of their relationship rebuilt and revealed, that they had re-bonded.  But the ensuing four months, proved just how different things really were.

There were, of course, lots of small changes, but the biggest change was in their intimacy.  It had become very Vulcan; rigid and ritualistic, with lots of intricately orchestrated finger and hand movements, and extended, deep melds.  Not that Jim wasn’t willing to do all manner of other things - after all, they had incorporated Vulcan intimacies in their relationship long ago - but he couldn’t deny missing the more human components and physicality.

He wouldn’t press Spock, though.  Couldn’t.  Every day Spock learned more and eventually, Jim had to remain confident that they would get around to the other things.  These months were mere pittance in the grand scheme of things.

Suddenly, Jim’s train of thought was broken with a forceful snap.  His body shuddered; an electric surge zinged along his nerves, and stole his breath in a soundless gasp.  His brow wrinkled in confused concentration.  It had come from the bond, a distinct buzz of anticipation rushing across, one he hadn’t felt in a while.  Then, just as abruptly as it had arrived, it was gone; first dampened, then shuttered closed.

The ride was over before he could process what had happened and what it could mean, therefore he was a bit more unsettled than he had planned on.  Once arrived, he grabbed his bags and walked up the steps to their door.  He set one bag down and he placed his hand onto the entry panel.  With a click, the door unlocked.  Jim pushed the door open, hoisted his bags and stepped inside.  Dropping the bags with a ‘thunk’, he landed a well-placed nudge from his boot to shut the door, the door automatically locking behind him. 

He took a deep breath, a languid smile spreading across his features on the exhale.  The smells permeating the house were divine.  Spock was making dinner and not just any dinner, but their favorite Italian soup – pasta e fagioli.  Albeit a healthier, vegetarian version with the sausage subbed out for pinto beans. 

Jim headed straight for the kitchen, calling out on the way, “Spock?”

The reply was immediate.  “In the kitchen, Jim.”

Jim rounded the corner, taking in the scene.  Spock was standing to the side of the island facing Jim, back to the stove, wearing an apron Jim had gotten him many years ago.  Jim couldn’t help his grin.  Spock had initially balked at the phrase printed on the apron, citing its potential for inducing culinary inefficiency, but once Jim had convinced him of its benefits, Spock had kept the apron and worn it without fail or complaint anytime he cooked.  It read:  Kiss the Cook.  It brought forth a cascade of memories, all of them precious.  This was the first time Spock had worn it since they'd gotten re-bonded.

But something was off, and it wasn’t just the lingering effects of the hovercab ride’s surprise.  As Jim closed the distance to his husband, he noticed a few oddities.  First, despite the warmth in his eyes, Spock’s side of the bond was actively quiet, as if shielded, and he was making no move to meet Jim half way.  In fact, Spock was standing rather stiffly, even for a Vulcan.  In addition, Spock appeared to be wearing his black, Starfleet-issue thermal undergarments, but was cooking in…socks?  _That_ was very odd.  Jim’s concern peaked.  This was definitely not normal, even in their newly defined version.

But rather than make a scene about what could be nothing, Jim smiled warmly, offering his fingers in the _ozh’esta_.  Spock offered the same and pressed his fingers to Jim’s.  At that, the bond pulsed once again, hard, another current snapping along Jim’s spine.

Before Jim could register it fully, he was grabbed, spun a quarter turn, and pinned against the island counter with superior Vulcan strength.  And kissed.  Fully.  In a very human way.  Jim couldn’t help his moan.  He was instantly lost.  It had been too long.

In the next moment, the bond opened fully, the full weight of Spock’s need and anticipation impacting Jim in the same way a meteor impacts the Earth: in an explosion of heat and energy.  He clung to the apron and delved, seeking and plunging into the mouth he’d been bereft of since Spock’s return to Jim.

He didn’t want to think beyond this moment or question it.  Instead, he moved one hand to flex and clench along Spock’s back, feeling the sinewy strength beneath, only to travel further down to his husband’s waist, running his thumb along the hipbones he adored.  Wanting nothing more than Spock pressed fully against him, he shifted slightly, grabbing Spock’s ass, intending to pull their bodies flush.

But what Jim found, or didn’t find, caused him to gasp in shock.  Pulling back, he looked at Spock with wide eyes.  “Spock?  Is your…are you…not wearing underwear?”

Spock’s was flushed, tinged green with arousal, as he lowered his eyes, barely whispering an answer.  “Yes.”

“Spock?  _Adun_.”  Although the kiss had been aggressive and wanton, Spock’s body language had now become shy, uncertain.  “If you are uncomfortable, we can….”

“No.”  Then more firmly, “No.  While you were away, I was evaluating my clothing for articles I no longer use, and I found a drawer with various neglected items that were almost exclusively…sexual in nature.”

Ah, hell.  Spock had found their adventurous fun drawer.  He imagined that must’ve been a shock, considering everything.  “I’m sorry, Spock.  With everything going on, I completely forgot – “

“No, _Adun_.  The items were both intriguing and fascinating.  They also seemed to have jarred certain memories.”  At this confession, Spock’s blush deepened.  “I was able to recall a birthday celebration from approximately six years ago.  The memory was…enlightening, overwhelming, and arousing.”

Jim smiled.  That night was definitely on his list of favorites.  “Mmm.  That was a very good birthday.”  Jim paused.  “But Spock, you seem a little…uncertain?  We don’t need to do anything because of it.  Especially if you are not ready or comfortable with it.”

Spock looked at Jim directly then, those warm, chocolate eyes, earnest in their plea as he spoke.  “Since the memory resurfaced, I have become…distracted, fixated on it.  I desire you and find myself longing to experience those particular intimacies again.”

Jim cocked his head.  “Are you sure?”

Spock gave a small, but firm nod.  Jim wanted Spock so badly, but never at the expense of his husband’s comfort.

“If it becomes too much, or you want to stop, just say so, okay?”  Jim ran his hands around Spock’s waist, to the ties of the apron.  “May I?”

Spock nodded once again.

Jim grasped the ends of the tie, slowly unraveling the knot until it broke apart.  He let the strings fall limp, trailing along Spock’s long legs.  He then lifted the neck piece up and over Spock’s head and tugged the apron from between them, dropping it without care on the kitchen floor.

Still mostly pinned against the counter, Jim couldn’t take in Spock well enough to satisfy and asked, “Will you step back for me?  Permit me to look at you?”

Spock took a step and a half back and stood, allowing Jim to drink him in.  Though he might have been feeling a bit shy, Spock had the natural grace, beauty, and dignity all Vulcans seemed to innately possess.  Jim couldn’t help but be mesmerized.  The thermal shirt fell just shy of Spock’s hipbones, leaving his half-erect cock exposed to Jim’s view. 

As if that weren’t enough, what really got Jim, now that the apron’s obstruction had been removed, was what he had thought were mere standard-issue, black thermal crew socks, weren’t socks at all, but a set of black, thigh-high socks Jim had purchased for Spock long ago.  In fact, except for the thermal shirt, the thigh-high socks were _all_ Spock was wearing.  They had been an extremely indulgent purchase to show off one of Jim’s favorite assets of Spock’s lithe, supple form.  No doubt, they’d also been the item in the drawer that had sparked the memory.

“My gods, you are stunningly beautiful.”

“Jim.”  An admonishment, but Spock’s flush deepened.

“Only truth, _ashayam_.”

Jim closed the distance, one hand delving underneath the shirt at Spock’s hip, to grasp and pull, the other, reaching to cup his neck and tug downward.  They kissed again, gentler this time, sweeter, but with no less hunger than before.  Teeth nipped, and tongues danced, while hands stroked and grabbed.  Spock’s hips twitched against Jim, his engorged length pressing against his hip. 

He turned them, this time bracing Spock against the counter.  He broke their kiss to trail them along Spock’s jaw instead, then shifting to suck almost-bruises down his neck.  While doing so, he gathered the shirt up in one hand, running his other through crisp, just-graying chest hair to settle on a nipple, tweaking it.  Spock twitched at the contact. 

His nipples had always been sensitive, and Jim loved to indulge; to watch his husband come apart and to know it was only ever for him.  So, Jim ducked his head, blowing warm air across the soft peak, then sucking and nipping at it until was verdant and stiff.  He turned his head to lave the same attention upon the other, until Spock’s breaths came in raspy huffs.

Looking at Spock, Jim tugged lightly at the shirt.  “Let’s get this off, shall we?”

It was quickly discarded in a separate heap on the floor.  He leaned back, admiring his husband in nothing but thigh-high socks and his lovely green blush.  He trailed his hands down Spock’s stomach, running his thumbs along that sensitive transition line between torso and groin, admiring the dark path leading down to a double-ridge cock, tumid and erect. 

Jim’s own cock jumped, straining in confined protest.  “I want to taste you.  May I?”

Spock swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he replied with a breathy, “Yes.”

Spock’s reached back to grip the counter while Jim carefully dropped to his knees, running his hands up and down Spock’s thighs, trailing kisses in their wake, down one partially clothed thigh and up the other.  He moved higher, alternating between nipping and suckling at barely protruding hipbones. 

Jim sat back on his heels, taking a moment to admire and full appreciate Spock’s rigid length; bright green, and glistening in a light sheen of natural lubrication that Jim had been thankful for many times over the years.  Jim couldn’t help the Cheshire Cat-like grin that broke across his features.  Spock was absolutely perfect.

“Jim.”  Another admonishment.

“Shush, Mister Spock.  I am allowed to worship all the things I love about you.”

Without warning, Jim tilted his head and licked a long stripe up the underside of Spock’s cock, tongue flat and wide, eliciting a sharp gasp from above.  Jim moaned in delight.  He had missed this; Spock’s taste on his tongue.  He loved his husband’s unique flavor; a spicy tingling, heated and bold on his palate, like too much ginger or cinnamon, and distinctly Spock.  He tongued the slit, before taking the whole head into his mouth, sucking in earnest.  He hollowed his cheeks and wrapped his hand around the base, stroking, twisting with his wrist, as he bobbed up and down.

Jim knew this body, had mapped every curve and pleasure point, time and again, and he used it to his advantage.  It wasn’t long before Spock was panting, hips twitching, all weight transferred to the balls of his feet, trembling, building towards his release.  Jim hummed, and felt Spock’s natural lubrication become copious; a sure sign of his impending orgasm.  It was another blessed perk of having a Vulcan spouse and it always made this next part easier.  Firmly grabbing onto both of Spock’s hips, he took a deep breath, relaxed his jaw, and pulled Spock forward, pushing the fully engorged head deep, past the ring of muscle, and swallowed.

Spock cried out, fingers suddenly gripping Jim’s hair, his hips bucking in small spasms, thrusting in Jim’s throat, until Spock seized, a chorus of “ah, ah, ah” falling from his lips.  He felt Spock’s cock swell and pulse and come.  Jim swallowed it down, happy to bring Spock pleasure, and delighted they’d been able to enjoy this very human intimacy.

He pulled off with a “pop” and a sharp intake of breath.  Spock’s fingers had slackened, but he was still trembling with his eyes squeezed shut and breaths heavy.

“Spock?”  Jim ran his hands along his thighs in a soothing motion, “Doing okay?”

“I am…,” a small shudder of breath, “extremely well, _ashayam_.”

Jim stood up, playfully brash as he smirked, “Well, it’s good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

Spock shook his head in light exasperation.  Though a moment later, Spock’s face turned more serious.  Biting his lip, Spock spoke the next words softly.  “This was not all we did in the memory.”

“Well, no, but I figured -”

“It would behoove you to permit me to calculate the figures.”  Spock’s lips curved ever so slightly.  “I am Vulcan, as well as a competent science officer aboard the USS Enterprise.”

Jim couldn’t help beaming at his husband, inclining his head as he said, “My apologies, Mister Spock.  Very well then, what would you figure our odds are of moving this to the bedroom and engaging in further carnal activities?”

Spock’s faced remained stoically Vulcan as he declared, “I would calculate the odds at 1:1.”

“Those are very good odds.”

“Indeed.”

Jim held out his hand, and Spock laid his neatly within, palms clasped as they headed past the living room and down the hallway to their bedroom.

As they got closer, Jim felt nervous with anticipation and a lingering worry he couldn’t define.  Maybe he was just feeling overwhelmed; the many months without, making it feel like exponentially more.  Plus, this was their first time since being back together, and he didn’t want to screw it up.

That’s when it hit him, like a Klingon torpedo to his gut.  Through the memory, Spock could remember what they had done previously, but Spock’s body, this newly regenerated, one-and-only gift of Genesis, had never had sex, at least not in any close semblance of what they were about to do.  It caused Jim to stop abruptly just within the threshold of their bedroom.

Spock glanced at Jim with concern, eyebrow raised in question.  “Jim?  Is there something wrong?”

“Ah, sorry, Spock.  I just.  I mean, it just occurred to me that, well, you remember some of the things we’ve done together now, but uh, your body, physically…”

“Is untried.”  Spock nodded in understanding.  “Your concern is noted, but unnecessary.  Did we not progress past that stage long ago without issue?”

“Well, yes, of course we did.”

“Then I expect this will be similarly satisfactory.”

“It’s just been a long time since, well, since then.”

“You need not worry, _ashayam_.  I have been exploring my body in your absence and confirmed it responds as accurately as the memory portrays.”

Jim only got as far as “exploring my body in your absence” before he choked, literally.  Of all the things he imagined Spock doing while he was gone, this was not one of them.  Jim gathered enough air to breathe out, “You _fingered_ yourself while I was gone?”

“It seemed only logical to confirm this regenerated body’s responses, as Genesis was unstable and flawed.  It also served the dual purpose of dissipating the sexual needs the memory invoked.”

Jim was flabbergasted.  Not that he was complaining, but this night was not going in any way he would have ever predicted.  His husband never failed to surprise him.

“Are you still amenable to continuing?”

Jim moved then, closing the small distance between them to reassure, a warm smile echoing his love for the amazing person in front of him.  “Of course.  It just means a small change of plans.”  He drew him close, kissing him again and only breaking apart when they were both breathless.  “Are you still sure?”

“Yes, Jim.”

Jim lead them to the bed, while Spock noted that Jim was entirely too overdressed for the occasion.  “You are right as ever, Mister Spock.  Let’s remedy that, hm?”

Spock popped the buttons on his shirt deftly, while Jim fought with his belt and pants buttons as he slipped off his shoes.  Before long, he stood naked, his clothes in disarray on the bedroom floor.

Spock simply stopped, gazing at him.

“I know it’s not like it used to be in that memory but – “

“No, _Adun_.  Neither of us are.  It is illogical to not expect our bodies to change.  But it is a part of you, my bondmate, my _t’hy’la_ , and it pleases me.”

They fell into bed then, each spending time remapping and exploring each other’s bodies, kissing, groping, and rutting against each other, reclaiming another part of their lives together.  Their mental connection also grew, the bond glowing brighter and humming louder with their mutual desire.  Jim happened to be on top of Spock, their cocks rubbing together in frustratingly glorious friction, when the bond once again pulsed hard, and Spock whimpered, “Please, Jim.  I need more.”

Jim couldn’t deny he also wanted and needed more.  So, he kissed Spock once, soundly, and then sat back, patting Spock’s bare hip.  “I think this part will be bit easier if you roll onto your elbows and knees.”

Jim watched as his husband’s lovely skin flushed and darkened at the words.  Spock turned gracefully, settling into position, while Jim admired the dimples above his ass and long legs, still clad in those socks that, bless them, had been the catalyst to all of tonight’s festivities.

He leaned over to the nightstand, opened the drawer, and withdrew the lube.  He would make sure he was more generous with it tonight than he’s had to be in a long while.

Nestling back between Spock’s legs, he laid the bottle on the covers, and ran his hands along Spock’s thighs, over his hips and lower back in long, soothing strokes.  When he felt the tension relax and the mental buzz regain strength, he set about kissing, nipping, licking, and biting the lovely expanse of skin laid before him, deliberately avoiding the verdant hole that occasionally winked at him.

When he felt he had appropriately worshipped the exposed skin, he grasped both cheeks firmly, spreading them, and licked a long stripe from Spock’s balls, up his perineum, and across the puckered ring of muscle.  Spock startled in surprise, but Jim licked another line, tongue pressed firm and flat, before he made several small flicks along the edge, only to press his face between the mounds, head shaking side to side as he focused intently on rimming his husband.  Spock began rocking his hips backwards, small sounds of pleasure escaping him.  Jim continued, until Spock’s hole became more pliant, until he could finally spear the tip of his tongue into Spock.

“Jim!”

The exclamation spurred him, and he pierced Spock with his tongue, over and over, going from licking, to sucking to spearing and back again.  This was one of Jim’s favorite things; watching and feeling and hearing Spock come undone.  But his jaw soon protested.  After extended months of inactivity and having seen its fair share of use tonight, he had to stop long before he wanted to.  Swiping his forearm across his mouth, he sat back to admire his work.

Spock said nothing and did not move.  The small, breathy pants, clenched fists and dripping cock were all Jim needed to know Spock enjoyed the interlude.  Jim picked up the bottle, flicked the top open and poured a generous amount onto his thumb and two fingers, rubbing to warm the liquid.  “Ready?”

“Jim.”  Admonishment number three.

“Just checking, my love.”  At that, he took one hand and spread one cheek, exposing Spock’s hole to cool air.  He watched it wink in protest before rubbing his thumb along the puckered ring multiple times, pressing firmly.  It gave with ease, softened and relaxed by Jim’s earlier attentions.  He tested, pressing one finger inside, sliding into Spock up to the first knuckle with ease.  He began diligently opening Spock up, making sure he took the first finger easily, before sliding free, applying more lube, and working in a second finger.

“Fuck, Spock.  You are so tight.”  The inner ring of muscle fluttered against the wider intrusion, but Jim remained patient, scissoring and stroking and thrusting his fingers until it gave way, allowing him to go deeper and granting him access to Spock’s prostate.

The first firm stroke of both fingers across it sent Spock’s body rigid with pleasure.  Jim did not remain unaffected.  Watching his fingers be swallowed over and over, being able to look his fill at Spock, and those damn stockings, had had him rock hard for what felt like ages. 

He continued opening Spock, hitting that bundle of pleasure at random intervals until Spock was pressing back forcefully against Jim’s hand, hips shoving backwards to gain more penetration.  Eventually, more lube and a third finger were added.  Jim got lost in the sensation of it all, until Spock tensed and cried out, “ _KROYKAH_!”

Jim stopped, pulling his three fingers gently out of Spock; the stretched gape of Spock’s hole causing his cock to jerk in want.  Spock was shuddering, his own length dripping freely, a small puddle of precum and Vulcan lubrication accumulated beneath him.

“Too close?  Or too much?”

Spock mumbled in Vulcan, the words too muffled by covers to be understood.  Jim couldn’t help but smile.  Anytime he could reduce his husband to using Vulcan in bed, meant he’d been a very good husband.

Spock glanced over his shoulder and huffed out a breath.  “Jim, _please_.  I need you.  Now.”

Jim soothed him once more.  “I got you, babe.  Roll over for me.”

Spock did so, less gracefully this time than before.  His hair was disheveled, eyes bright and wild with desire and passion.  There was high color staining his cheeks and his lips were a deep pink and swollen, no doubt from being bitten and gnawed between teeth as he tried to hold back making ‘undignified’ sounds.

Jim exhaled in adoration.  “You are beautiful, _t’hy’la._ ”

Spock ran his hands down Jim’s chest and along his belly.  “As are you.”

Jim settled between Spock’s parted thighs and leaned down to kiss Spock, to convey with actions and across the bond, all the overwhelming emotions he felt.  Meanwhile, Spock hooked his legs around the back of Jim’s thighs, exerting pressure and canting his hips in an effort to pull Jim closer.  Jim’s cock, long since the angry red of neglect, turgid and overexcited, brushed up against Spock’s entrance, rubbing upwards along his perineum to get caught against Spock’s balls.

Jim’s groin tightened, muscles seizing in warning, as Jim cursed loudly.  The stimulation had almost been too much to control.

Spock stilled beneath him.  “Jim?”

Jim pulled away slightly, “Sorry, Spock.  It, uh, seems getting reacquainted has gotten me a bit too excited.”  Jim cleared his throat, a bit embarrassed.  “I’m not confident I’ll last long once I get inside you, and gods, I don’t want this to be over too soon.”  He paused, briefly wondering how Spock would react to the next bit of information.  “We’ve, uh, done something before that might help.”

Spock looked at him in the way that only a Vulcan with innate curiosity could at something new to process and learn. 

“Can you, uh, dampen the urge for me?”

“It is possible, of course, but I am intrigued.  What precipitated its use in the past?”  Spock looked expectantly at Jim, waiting for him to explain.

“Well, it was always used more for purposefully extending things, denying orgasm altogether.”  Jim smiled with remembered fondness. “A human’s stamina is not comparable to a Vulcan’s, so it was used mostly when you were inside me, to, ah, keep me from coming until you’d had your way with me.”

Spock’s pupils dilated noticeably, swallowing what was left of warm chocolate as his eyes widened and eyebrows peaked, a spark flitting across his features.  His swollen member twitched between them.

Seeing his reaction, Jim lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, adding, “It’s also something we can try again soon, if you want.”

He watched as a tongue flicked out to wet pink lips.  “I would be amenable.”

Jim kissed Spock lightly.  “Me too.  But first, back to our more pressing issue…”

Without further delay, Spock placed his fingers on Jim’s face.  He felt a small pressure in his mind, before the tightness in his groin eased, his almost-premature release dialed back.  Jim sighed in relief.  As Spock dropped his hand, Jim said, “Now, where were we?” 

He ran his hands from Spock peaked hips, up his thighs to his knees and back again.  He leaned off to the side and grabbed the lube once more, generously slicking his cock and placed the swollen head flush against Spock’s entrance, and locking eyes, slowly pushed into him.  Even with Spock’s throttle control on, Jim felt himself pull close to orgasm.  Not only was Spock tighter than he’d been prepared for, but being inside Spock, making love to him, being physically connected, was consuming and near overpowering.

Spock’s channel fluttered around him, protesting being stretched wider, before relaxing, the inner ring of muscle giving, as Jim sank deeper into Spock’s heat.

“Fuck, Spock.  You feel amazing.”  He took it slow, pressing in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out.  Jim once again leaned forward, bracing himself on either side of Spock’s chest, as he kissed his husband, allowing him time to adjust.

It wasn’t long before Spock shifted, hitching his legs up to Jim’s hips.  They gasped in unison as the angle changed, allowing Jim to sink even further.  Grinding his hips against him, the bond flared as Spock uttered one simple word: “Move.”

Jim complied, pulling back slowly to relish being fully sheathed inside his husband and enjoy the drag of his cock against Spock’s inner walls, and then pushing slowly back in, the languid thrusts flaming their desire.  Spock’s arms wrapped around Jim, dragging down his back to dig and flex into Jim’s ass, using it as leverage to yank them hard against each other. 

Taking the hint, Jim quickly snapped his hips.  He moved more forcefully, hips flexing as he plunged into his husband.  Their bodies soon fell into a rhythm they both enjoyed; hard, shortened thrusts followed by long, deep strokes, over and over again, until Jim was covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

With a tilt of Spock’s pelvis, Jim began hitting Spock’s prostate repeatedly.  They moved together, their physical pleasure building while simultaneously, it was reflected back in the vivid pulsing and vibrating of the bond.  Spock’s cock leaked continuously, making a mess between them. 

When he felt Spock flutter around him, that ring of muscle beginning to tighten, he took Spock’s shaft in hand, pumping him in rhythm to his thrusts.  He quickly gasped out, “Remove the block and meld us, Spock.  One and together.”

Spock’s eyes were glazed and bright as he reached for Jim, placing his fingers along psi points and panting, “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts.”

A rainbowed burst of color and feeling hit him as Jim was enveloped in their love, their desire, their joy at this reconnecting.  It was infinitely compounded in the massive feedback loop of the meld.  It was as incredible as ever; feeling himself thrust inside Spock and yet feeling Spock being filled, their individual experiences combining into a singular moment that seemed to explode with the force of a hundred newborn stars.

Spock quivered beneath him, crying out as he came, painting their stomachs and chests as his cock spasmed.  Jim thrust hard, once, twice, three times, and buried deep, filling his husband with his release as Spock’s walls fluttered, his internal muscles rhythmically clenching and tightening around him.

Jim collapsed on Spock, head resting on his shoulder, as Spock continued to tremble.  The combined aftermath of their lovemaking and the meld usually left them both unable to communicate for several minutes.

Eventually, Jim was the first to move, gingerly pulling out of his husband to drop beside him on the bed.  When he was finally able to form full coherent thoughts, Jim turned to smile at his still mute husband.  “Well Mister Spock, I think I’m gonna be fond of that particular cooking attire for quite some time.”

Spock shifted to look at him, a small smile curving the corners of his mouth.  “Perhaps I will find more instances to require its use.”

“I sure do hope so.”  He pecked a quick kiss to that dangerous mouth and suggested, “How about we get cleaned up and go enjoy that dinner?  It smells delicious.  And I’m hungry.”  He grinned.  “Now that I’m not so distracted and have worked up an appetite.”

Spock hummed in agreement, adding, “Once dinner is completed, I will then prepare you for dessert.”

Jim couldn’t help but chuckle at his Vulcan.  It appeared some neurons might still be misfiring.  “Why, Mister Spock, I think the effects of multiple orgasms must still be lingering.  Don’t you mean prepare dessert for me?”

A singular eyebrow raised in mock indignation.  “I did not misspeak.”

Dark brown eyes twinkled with playfulness as Jim’s smile spread.  “Always my clever Vulcan.  How I do adore you.”  Winking, Jim’s voice dropped into a husky murmur.  “I cannot wait to be ‘prepared.’  Do with me what you will.”  Jim lifted his hand, index and middle fingers forming the _ozh’esta_.  “I’m yours, always.”

Spock met Jim’s fingers with his own.  “As I have been, and always shall be, yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing is _completely_ Plaid’s fault for [this](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com/post/147962696366/please-stop-scrolling) original prompt. [This](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com/post/148599760831/but-imagine-oms-kirk-finally-arriving-home-after) was my anon response, long before I had a tumblr (though not so anon now!) Check out Plaid’s tag “thigh high socks” [here](http://plaidshirtjimkirk.tumblr.com/search/thigh+high+socks). So much lovely artwork and amazing responses. Make sure to look through all the pages if you're so inclined. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, nor am I profiting from this in any way. I am merely playing with the characters for enjoyment’s sake.


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